Young Writers Society

EARTH: 2/18/2318

Sirens blaring mimic the pace of my heart.

“This is it.” Jeremy whispers.

We live in the Survival Compound, the last place the government still sends funds to, besides Nuclear Research. It’s the last nuclear-safe facility, where people who have Ideal Gene Selection are sent to live.

Because nuclear-safe-zones are such a cost to make, they’re built only large enough to host residents, a few specially trained doctors, technicians and mechanics, isolated from the world. The workers teach us about inter-galaxy survival, navigation, and most importantly, we learn how to protect and artificially grow the 100 unique frozen human embryos, that are supposed to be enough to restart the population if it happens.

It’s sinking in just as Jeremy is yelling, “Becca, we’re under final-nuclear-attack!”

I look at him, wondering how many more times I’ll be able to hear Jeremy say my name. Do names matter in space, when no one else can hear it? Do they matter in death? The only thing that terrifies me more than space and death, is a world without him in it.

I give a silent prayer to whatever life-forms are still out there, that Jeremy will be chosen from the survival lottery. To optimize room for resources and books only one person will be sent into space with the embryos.

In the lottery room I stand squeezing Jeremy’s hand as the lottery machine ticks off letters.

B.E.C.C.A.S.M.I.D.T.

I stop breathing.

“Becca, it’s you.”

I whisper back, “Jeremy, you have to get on that ship. There’s room.”

I lose his hand as a mechanic pulls me towards the space-ship. As I’m escorted, the lead technician recites information I’ve heard a hundred times. A cart is wheeled in front of me by a doctor carefully marking charts for the embryos.

“Humankind is yours now” the technician says.

The door of the ship swings open in front of us, and Jeremy tumbles out. A mechanic steps out from inside the ship’s door, “This one was stowing away, four centuries worth of history volumes were thrown out” he says, pointing to books on the ground.

“I’m not going, there’s room for us both.” I beg.

The sirens pause their ringing tone, and the intercom reports, “nuclear-shut-down five minutes.”

The technician pushes Jeremy from me. “The plan calls for one. We don’t have time for this.”

Jeremy stands back up to stand by me again. The doctor urges “I need three minutes to oxygenate these inside the ship. Get these kids strapped in or this is all for nothing.”

The technician looks from the history volume, to the embryos, and steps forward with his key-card. Red lights flash, the door doesn’t open.

“That mechanic’s sealed the door, he’s leaving without the embryos” the technician says, panicked.

The doctor pounds on the door screaming as the engines of the ship start up. The technician pulls him away before the ceiling opens and the ship is soon replaced by smoke.

My lungs burn and I bury my face in Jeremy’s shoulder until I have to gasp in a breath of the toxic air. The last sound I hear is Jeremy murmuring my name, “Becca.”

Earth, 2210
Katy’s heart thumped as she waited for the rocket to take off. She’d been chosen from a special astronaut training programme to be the first human being to set foot on Mars.
Along with her, her commanding officer Lucia Brunhoff and experienced astronaut Peter Townsend would be accompanying her on this mission. It was a hugely important task.
Katy had dreamed about visiting Mars in person since she was ten years old. She’d always been fascinated by space, and when she was old enough had signed up for an astronaut programme. Now, a huge breakthrough at NASA had allowed her dream to become reality.
At first, she’d been so excited she couldn’t sleep at night, but now she was actually sat in the rocket she was beginning to be afraid. What if something went wrong? What if the new spacesuits that allowed them to brave Mars’s harsh conditions failed?
There was a roar as the rocket lifted off. This was it. It was actually happening. No turning back now.
Faced with a long journey ahead, Katy closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep….
She woke with a start. Something was banging on the door of the spacecraft.
Katy struggled to sit up and exchanged a fearful task with Peter and Lucia.
“What’s that noise?” Peter’s voice crackled through her radio.
Katy was about to reply when there was a clang and the door creaked open.
Outside stood a group of strange green beings, with big black eyes and oddly elongated heads. Katy stifled a scream and cowered away from them.
“Greetings!” said the tallest being in perfect English. “Welcome to Mars. You must be aliens. Very pleased to meet you.”

[Incoming transmission: Unknown sender]
[Warning! File may be corrupt]
-static-
-click-
-intelligible sound-
It's been 5 days. Or, at least, I think it has been. It feels like it anyway. Whatever, the launch happened a few days ago. I'm the only...person here. I don't know why I'm recording this, it's not like anyone's going to hear it anyway.
…
Actually, someone might. Someone might know my story. I guess I'll make these in that hope. It might even get me through this…
So, I've been shot off humanity's home - Earth. They’ve told everyone I'm off to Mars. I'm not very confident I'll make it. Sure, the "ship" has enough supplies, but then again, the "ship" is a damn car. A Tesla Roadster, to be specific. They've fitted it with solar panels, so it's power will stay on, but it's not like it's comfortable in here. Worse, I don't know what I a-
-static-
-intelligible sound-
I'm not sure how long it's been since the last recording, but I can't see Earth anymore. I stared at it until it grew so small that I could not see it anymore. It's probably still there, as one of the small points of light I can see, but I know not which one. in any case, I'm still on my way to Mars, though I'm not sure how much longer it'll take.
I don't even know what I'm supposed to do once I get there. Maybe the people back at the facility have left something that'll pop up once I arrive. That is, assuming I'll arrive there. This small car could be torn apart by an asteroid, or maybe some circuitry could be fried or even-
-static-
-scratch, scratch-
-intelligible noise-
On the plus side, this car has survived the trip so far. I wonder how I'll land on Mars. That is, will I be burnt to a crisp during re-entry, my c-c-c-static
...-ed-d, or perhaps there's a parachute in the trunk. Waiting to b-be deployed. I'll admit, I haven't really searched this car,even with all the time I've been here. It doesn't-t feel all that long t-t-t-though. Sometimes I'll fall into this really deep sleep, and when I wake up, I'll have moved along in my journey. Like back-k when I-I-I-I-
-static-
-intelligible noise-
-shuffle-
I'm almost there now. I can see a star in the distance getting bigger. Slowly but surely. I can see it's growing. H-h-h-have I ever spoken about the sun? The harsh glare, it's so bright. I vaguely-y-y recall back on Earth, it was sometimes calm, and only rarely was it relatively "harsh." It's n-n-n-othing c-c-ompared to out here though, it-
...
-static-
-shuffle-
-sounds of footsteps-
Okay, so I've recently landed on Mars. I've been hiding out in this cave, using the supplies from the trunk of the car. There was a parachute there. D-
-static-
-hurried movement-
I'm not sure how l-l-l-ong I'll b-be able t-to stay-y, but I need--
-sound of metal clanging-
Mars...Is not safe...repeat...M-m-mars-s-ss-s--s-
[Transmission end]

Hi! That’s me. Floating between the Earth and the Moon, in my old man’s Tesla. You may be wondering how I got in this situation. As far as anyone knows, gravity is really good at keeping cars on the ground. Honestly, I don’t know where this whole mess began.

Perhaps it was when I got into an argument with some random guy on the internet. He was saying a bunch of garbage, and no one else wanted to correct him, so I stepped up. I mean really, who believes the Earth is round? It’s obviously flat. I was losing the battle, and so in a last bid attempt, I promised to go up into space to see for myself. He probably didn’t believe me. Looking back at the planet, I can see his reasoning now.

Maybe it started when I met that other guy on the internet. After promising to go into space, I had no idea where to start. After searching for awhile, I met someone named Charmander96. He promised me that he could get me into space. I didn’t believe him.

It was probably when Charmander96 managed to connect me to the Russian government. I didn’t believe it at first, but I met with Vladimir Putin himself. He said I could use one of his old rockets, as long as I did a few… things for him. At that point, I was still adamant about proving that first internet guy wrong, so I accepted.

I’m going to guess it was when the Russians told me to kill a cabinet member. He was going to oversee the launch of a new rocket. The plan was for me to drive into the compound, shoot him up good, and leave as fast as I could. I took out my Dad’s Tesla. It was the only thing I had.

Oh! I know! It was when I completely botched up the mission. I somehow managed to drive off a ramp and crashed into the rocket. Luckily, the Tesla conveniently covered up the hole it made. I was also wearing my crash protection suit, so I had that going for me. Unluckily, the launch started before I could get out.

After being stuck in the rocket for hours, I had reached space. I accidentally pushed on the pedals, and I drove out of the rocket. It descended without me, and I was stuck in orbit. I had worn a helmet, though I doubt I’ll have much air.

Yeah, I really don’t know where it all went wrong. I was an idiot from the very beginning. I shouldn’t have tried to go into space. You needed qualifications for that or something. It’s kind of cold up here.

Sebastian hadn’t slept a wink last night, just as he hadn’t studied one bit for his AP Physics exam. So when he saw the car falling from the sky—well, if it was flying, it wasn’t doing a very good job at this point—he decided to follow it. Steering his Prius out of the line of traffic waiting for the light, he made an only mostly illegal U-turn and sped down the road in the opposite direction.

He tracked the car north, looking more at the object in the sky than the speed limit signs. Major Tom was playing on the rock radio station he listened to most days, and he allowed himself a moment to laugh at the irony before focusing on his target again. The flying car was headed out of town, and Sebastian had to give the driver—flyer, he supposed—of the car some credit for trying to land somewhere there was a bit more open space.

The car was low now, fire spurting out of the back end. Sebastian hoped that was normal for a flying car. Then it disappeared below the tree line, and he parked his own car and ran out into the fields. There it was, right in the middle, looking only slightly crushed. The fire seemed to have gone out, which was a relief.

He hesitated just on the edge. He could turn back now and still make in time for the physics test. But somehow, in that moment, it felt like there was only one option: go forward.

Sebastian ran towards the car, which was surrounded in a light haze of smoke. Waving it away from his face (who knew what sort of gases it might contain? It’s not like this craft was government-sanctioned), he reached the car. The windows were tinted, and no one responded to his call. He looked around the field, but no one else was there. Either no one else had seen this thing crash land, or else they were more worried about their exams or jobs or whatever than he was.

He pulled on the door handle, and it easily opened up. Inside a nondescript interior was a man in some sort of space suit. Cautiously, Sebastian patted the man’s arm, assuming it was a man. There was no response.

Now a little worried, he pulled off the helmet. At the very least, he knew some CPR if it came to that. But when the helmet was in his hands and the face was revealed, he stared and stared. And stared. The large nose, the dark sheaf of hair, the thick black eyebrows—it was a face he knew well. It was Sebastian.

YEAR 1
I awake with one thought and one goal in mind: send signals to Earth about my trajectory and the coordinates of where I am. I am programmed to last ten thousand years to simply observe, send signals, and receive signals. I pick up noise. A count down. I take off. I send my first signals. I am praised.


YEAR 30
I have finished my first orbit to Earth. I receive signals on the news:
"People placing bets that Starman will crash!"
"Want to see Starman riding the Tesla Roadster? Go to these places at this time!"
"Scientists announced that Starman will float for centuries to come!"
I am pleased that my signals gather excitement on Earth. I notice that the red paint on the Roadster and the finish on my space suit have begun deteriorating due to radiation exposure.


YEAR 180
I have passed Earth six times. I continue to send signals. On this sixth time, I do not received a signal back. Perhaps the people do not need my coordinates anymore. I still send my signals.


YEAR 570
I see Earth with many spaceships. Many leave the planet and do not return. I no longer receive annual program-updates or news. I continue to send my signals. No response.


YEAR 1080
I continue to orbit, undisturbed. I come close to Earth for the thirty-sixth time. It appears to be quiet. I continue to send signals. No response.


YEAR 3450
I continue to send signals. No response.


YEAR 6420
I continue to send signals. No response.


YEAR 9958
I near Earth to see the first signs of life in centuries. Space ships arrive all at once. Perhaps humans have returned from a long journey. I continue to send signals. I do not receive a response.


YEAR 9960
This is my three-hundred-and-thirty-second orbit around Earth. I receive a response... I do not understand. I begin translating.
TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...
A spaceship approaches me. We do not collide, but I no longer orbit Earth. I find myself in a new environment.

TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...
UNKNOWN LANGUAGE.

Power off.


YEAR 9980
Power on.
I find myself behind what appears to be glass walls. I am on my Tesla Roadster. The paint has returned to a vibrant red color. My space suit is refurbished. I am unable to send signals. Someone approaches.

IDENTIFYING
IDENTIFYING ...
UNKNOWN.

Small figures. Big figures. I detect a language being spoken between the figures.

TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...
UNKNOWN LANGUAGE.

They come and go. Many little figures appear with one big figure. Big figure says speech. Little figures lean against the glass to look at me. Big figure yells at them and they move on. This repeats for hours and hours until everything becomes dark. Hours and hours later, everything becomes light and everything repeats.
I am able to spot a plaque nearby written in an unknown language. I begin to translate.

TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...

YEAR 9990
I pick up patterns. I associate a certain frequency to be the equivalent of a laugh. I associate the long stares to be curiosity. I continue to translate the plaque.

TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...

YEAR 10000

TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING
TRANSLATING ...
TRANSLATION COMPLETE:

Power off.

It wasn't hard to pretend to be a dummy. All one had to do was nothing, and doing nothing wasn't exactly difficult. What was difficult was keeping everything a secret in the days leading up to the launch. No goodbyes. No one could know. Tom could only disappear quietly from everyone’s minds.

Now, as the silence and loneliness were getting to him, he finally said something. No. He screamed into the vast vacuum of space. No words, just noise, silence sucking up his voice. Tom couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. Popping a CD into the slot, he sighed. He had brought an entire CD book. This trip was going to take too long for just Journey’s Greatest Hits.

Tom still didn't quite understand why everything had to be so secretive, but what did he know? He was just the janitor at SpaceX. He had been so surprised when Mr. Musk had approached him with the plan to travel to Gliese 832c. A short 16 light years away. SpaceX had developed the capacity to travel at light speed, but the only one to know about it other than the scientists and Elon Musk himself was Tom. Tom the janitor. Tom the astronaut now. 16 years of waiting, even at light speed. It was going to take 16 years to get to a planet no one was certain would even be hospitable to human life. Tom found he didn’t mind; just about anything was better than being the janitor at SpaceX. People would ask him where he worked. SpaceX sounded impressive until Tom got to the part where he just cleaned up the scientific messes and didn’t make them.

It was up to Tom to get himself there. There still was no technology capable of remotely controlling a vehicle millions of miles away, let alone light-years. Tom, however, had nothing to worry about; the ship drove just like a normal car, so Tom had been an expert spaceman since he was 16. To Don't Stop Believin' Tom pressed his practiced foot down on the accelerator and watched the stars blur into lines of light from the window. One hand on the wheel, he whistled along to the song. Maybe 16 years wouldn't be too bad.

Neil knew he had a dream, although, early on, he didn’t know what that dream was. There wasn’t a word for it then, no acknowledgement that it was even possible beyond the imaginations of science fiction writers. All he knew was that, for as long as he could remember, he would look out at the sky each night, at the moon and the stars, and wonder about what was beyond.

As Neil grew into a teenager, he began to take to the skies themselves. Flying through the clouds exhilarated him, but still, he came down each night, looked up at the stars and wondered about what was beyond. Yet the world had other things on its mind, and going out, touching the stars, that was all still the stuff of science fiction.

Years passed and Neil was now an adult with a family of his own. He had been doing alright for himself and may have forgotten about his dream, but suddenly the world became fascinated with it too. Then, there was a man who did just that. He traveled past the skies and into space. He may come right back down, but if a man could do that, maybe one could even set foot on the moon itself. Neil had never given up flying and that they did not go unnoticed by the people who shared his dream.

“How would you like to go into space and walk on the moon?” They asked him.

He agreed without a second thought. Months passed, and then years. For all of their hard work, Neil had still never travelled above the clouds. Everyone thought he was insane. No one thought it would ever lead to anything.

And then, through nothing short of a miracle, they were ready. Ready as they would ever be. It was still dangerous, still incredibly dangerous. It wasn’t certain that he would come back alive. But it was too late to turn back now. He couldn’t disappoint the child still inside him that looked up at the night sky in wonder.

Then the day came. He walked out of the spacecraft and was on the moon.

One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.

He came back safely and to a hero’s welcome. As the years passed and his moonwalk became a distant memory, the people never stopped coming to him. You inspire me. You made me want to be an astronaut.

Neil had never asked for that. All he had done was do what he felt was right, do what he believed in, and never give up even when it seemed impossible.

Before long he was an old man, and his moonwalk became a distant memory. Yet everyone still adored him, and Neil hadn’t the slightest idea why.
They said it was because he had led the way. He had made the impossible seem within reach. He couldn’t not be touched by that, even if he didn’t deserve all the credit. There were many people who had helped him get there, many much smarter than he was.

As his time left on earth began to slip away, he began to wonder about its future. Since his moonwalk, many astronauts had come and gone, many who did much greater things. They had been to Mars. Maybe they would drive cars into the sky.

It might have been ridiculous, but then again, so had a simple walk on the moon not so long ago.

Who knew what was next.

Space was not a place for sounds. For instance, the long tubes protruding from the bottom of the cylindrical spacecraft latched onto the surface of the asteroid silently. The craft, gently pulled towards the asteroid by the retracting tubes, stopped just a few feet above the gray, dusty surface. A platform, attached by a small wire and surrounded by a clear plastic wall, descended slowly from the bottom of the ship. It nudged the earth, sending up a tiny cloud of particles.

One boy, dressed in a nearly-skintight white outfit with a helmet containing a clear visor, jumped slowly down onto the platform. He walked into the plastic, which parted around the edge of his suit, and took a few uncertain steps onto the tiny landscape. “The scanners are almost never wrong,” he said cheerfully into the microphone attached to the helmet’s inside. “I bet my life on it.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” said the similarly-dressed girl who fell slowly onto the platform, crossing her arms. She followed the boy down one side of the asteroid. “I don’t think what it found could –”

The boy stopped and pointed. “See?” he said smugly.

Stopping beside him, the girl gasped as she stared at the red car embedded into the asteroid’s side. A driver, dressed in a bulky suit, did not move; its hands clung to the steering wheel. “What in the worlds!” she breathed. The boy jumped towards the car, quickly evading the girl’s outstretched hands.

Pressing a button on his suit, the boy stared at the info that soon appeared on the inside of his visor. “No signs of life,” he said eagerly, though his voice soon switched to confusion. “Seems like the driver’s a dummy. And the car, it’s – it looks like it’s not one of the flying ones?”

“How old is this?” said the girl. “And why is it here?” She stepped carefully towards the car, scanning it herself in the press of a button. The data that she read on her visor told the same story that he had. She huffed.

“How should I know?” replied the boy, leaping into the passenger’s seat and peering towards the hood. “Looks a little banged up, doesn’t it?”

The girl shifted her focus from the front to the back of the car; the vehicle was pockmarked with countless tiny holes, which even littered the suit of the ‘driver,’ while dust had partly buried the hood.

The boy continued his inspection. Fiddling with a few buttons on the car, the boy finally threw up his arms in irritation. “Looks like it either won’t start, or I don’t know how to start it,” he said, sighing. His face soon brightened up again. “But I know what we can do.”

Raising an eyebrow, the girl said warily, “Hmm?”

“Let’s tow it back to the school,” said the boy. “It’ll blow their minds.”

Shrugging, the girl leaped back to the ship. “As long as this isn’t a prank,” she said.

there is a starman waiting in the sky for me
the moon lights the way for us
illuminating the vehicle and my
starman
surrounded by an inky
darkness

the vehicle
is some kind of
futuristic vehicle
a hover car, perhaps
or the car of my dreams

the moon
just a silver sliver
reminding me of the fact
that there is a slim chance
that i will see my starman

and my starman
a mysterious figure
in an astronaut's suit
face covered
body covered
driving the car

as i lay on this hospital bed
thinking about dreams
and my starman
i wait for the surgery
that will change my life
one way or another

now the surgery
i can't think much
but my starman
fills my mind
while the doctors
experiment with my body.
there is a skylight above me
showing no stars
and a slivered moon.

it’s fading
it’s all fading
why is it fading
the doctors are arguing
about why the anesthetic
didn't work
somehow
why the surgery
didn't work
somehow
was it because i was
holding onto my starman

they are muffled now
everything is black
oh
there's a white light
i walk towards it
i want to touch it
i want to feel it

...

i have gone through
and in front of me
stretches an inky blackness
a slivered moon
no stars
but people
people everywhere
shimmering
silver
and gold

but one
only one
stands out

my starman

“What’s going on?” I ask hurrying up to the crowd and pushing my way through. I spot my best friend four or five rows back from the group of scientists standing on top of some really unstable looking boxes.
“Hm? Oh, something about sending someone to explore the planets. I couldn’t hear what else they said because of the protest of the crowds after the word ‘research’” Ben replied. “I mean we all know it’s not just for research.”
Ben was right. The planet had been disintegrated ever since 2020. Since it was now 2075, trash and global warming had been threatening the survival of every living thing. They must be looking for a new livable planet. But haven’t they been looking for a new one ever since they finally invented the super turbo booster things?
“Come on, let’s try to get closer. I want to hear what they’re saying.”
Pulling Ben along with me, I squeeze my way through the gathering crowd. I get about two rows back before someone protests and pushes me back. I tune in to what the scientists are saying.
“—volunteer to pioneer us into this new space age? You will be equipped with all our best advancements in speedy travel and space technology. The launch will be tomorrow. If no one volunteers there will be a random draw. No experience in space or driving is needed.” The scientist doesn’t look super sure of what he is saying, which makes me skeptical.
“Come on Evan, you’ve always wanted to be an astronaut. You never stopped talking about it when you were thirteen.” Ben nudges me.
“Yeah, and that was when I was thirteen. Did you forget I’ve been talking about being a computer technician since ninth grade? I dropped astronaut soon after since I found out all the things an astronaut has to do.”
Ben nudges me again. “Come on. They need somebody and you seem to be the only one slightly interested.”
“I don’t want to be stuck in space for months alone and doing ‘research’. I don’t care that I said I liked space when I was thirteen. That was eight years ago.” I shoot back.
One of the scientists over hears me and whips his head towards me. Unfortunately, he almost falls off his precarious box perch and stumbles ungracefully over to me.
“You there! Did I hear you say you liked space and were willing to go?” He seemed to be daring me to disagree with a scientist.
“Uh, yes.” I really didn’t want to get in trouble since the scientists seemed to be in charge of everything nowadays.
“Well lucky you! Step right up to the brand new rocket through the universe!” With that, he pulled off a sheet covering a strangely car-shaped ‘rocket’. A Tesla roadster to be exact.
“A car is my rocket through the universe?” I sputter.
“Don’t worry, it’s full of all the most high-tech gadgets and gear we have! We’ll get you ready to head off tomorrow lickety-split!” The scientist almost sounded giddy with excitement that I couldn’t share. I sigh. How did my day end up like this?

Where there's space, there's silence. This is the first lesson he learned when the mask tailored to his facial shape and features down to microscopic detail first materialized around his head. Test Subject #168 thought he'd die when he signed the papers that gave permission for the company to utilize his body in a better way than he ever might as said by the scientist that took photos of him that were downloaded to a tiny chip that activated when touching his skin and outer space--at least that's what little information he received going in.

Communications with the crew down on Earth ceased about 75 million kilometers ago. Since then, #168 stared through the windshield with his chair reclined. If he died then, listening to his favorite mixtape made for him by a friend before she left for college, would that really be such a tragedy?

#168 looked over to the flag draped across the passenger seat and remembered why he accepted to enlist for the mission in the first place. The income went directly to the friends who understood and cared about him over the years. Even if #168 didn't reach Mars, he liked to think he made a difference in his community.

The controls were designed to be similar to a car's to lower the learning curve for those without experience in astronomy. The lady who explained how the vehicle worked told him to only touch the emergency controls in an emergency.

The word 'nobody' lingered on his lips as the song faded out and he closed his eyes. He thought to himself, if I die in my sleep, would that really be such a tragedy?